


I'm Only Sleeping

by Tonight_At_Noon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Rescue Missions, and that means studying, darcy wants to be a lawyer, which cannot lead to anything good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 07:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16908507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonight_At_Noon/pseuds/Tonight_At_Noon
Summary: Studying hard for finals, Darcy Lewis is frightened half to death when she exits her dorm room to find the Winter Soldier has come for her. Only he hasn't come to kill her. He's come to save her. From the alien invasion happening just outside her dorm. That she had no idea was happening.





	I'm Only Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> Two-parter. Finals are done this coming week, so expect more Darcy/Bucky stories from this gal over the next month!
> 
> Enjoy.

"You're no fun!" 

Darcy doesn't even look up from her gender studies textbook. She nods, because she knows she's no fun, and continues placing sticky tabs along the border of the page. The pile of multi-coloured tabs is running low. She'll have to get to the bookstore before it closes if she can spare five minutes. Which she can't. In reality. In reality, she has to remain chained to this desk until all of her work is complete. 

It takes her a second to figure out Maeve is still standing in the doorway to their dorm. She hates that she's one of the only seniors still forced to live in one of these things. She hates even more her sophomore roommate who insists on going to parties every  Thursday night , waking her up  at three AM  when she stumbles through the door with the help of her shitty friends who always let her drink too much. 

Darcy rubs her eyes beneath her glasses and scans Maeve's outfit. It's a skintight dress that Darcy could never fit her boobs into, but it works well on the younger girl. The fabric will do nothing to protect her from the below-average temperatures afflicting West Virginia at the moment, but Darcy isn't about to say anything for fear of sounding older than Maeve already thinks she is.

"You're gonna give yourself a heart attack if you don't take a break sometime soon," the blond says sagely, cocking her head to the side. Her short curls bounce with the motion.

"Maybe that's what I'm working towards," Darcy says. "If I'm dead, I won't have to spend all my time studying."

Maeve, even after three months, hasn't quite grasped Darcy's dry sense of humour and stares at her, concerned. "Well...I'll try not to be too late, okay? Promise you'll take at least a five minute break?"

A warm feeling spreads through Darcy's fingers. Nobody bothers to make sure she's okay. Most of the time they're too busy worrying about themselves, or their friends—of which Darcy has essentially none—to notice poor, half-dead Darcy. Not that she cares. She's been fine up to this point. Does she sometimes contemplate how sad and pathetic people must think she is for spending all of her free time with her head in textbooks and hanging out with professors during their office hours? Yes. But they won't think she's sad and pathetic when she's a top tier lawyer and they're all struggling to get work with their English and philosophy BAs. 

Darcy offers Maeve a smile. "I'm fine. Go have fun. But”—

—“Not too much," Maeve finishes for her. "I know." She backs out of the room and closes the door behind her. 

She knows, but she never actually listens. 

Darcy swivels her chair back around and stares at her textbook. Just one more chapter of this, then she can move on to the bigger fish. The emergence of dictatorships, the subject of her favourite class this semester. Not that her love of it changes how fucking hard it is. 

When the time comes for her to crack into her next textbook, Darcy hears faint, distant screams. Probably some frat guy chasing a sorority girl around the green. She opens her book—the biggest one she's ever been assigned—and starts reading, doing her best to block out the noise from outside. Only that gets more and more difficult as the night stretches on. The sounds begin changing. They grow louder and closer. Darcy swears there are some people playing with sparklers or fire crackers or something, because from the upper floor of the dorm building she can see flashes of light followed by pops and bangs and more people yelling. 

Don't they realise she's trying to study? Don't they realise that her chest has been tight for the last three and a half years as she's worked towards getting her BA? Don't they realise that if she doesn't continue studying and getting good grades, no law school is going to look twice at her application even with her high LSAT score? 

Of course they don't realise any of those things. They’re too busy having the time of their lives to bother thinking about her.

Darcy reaches frustratedly for another sticky tab and groans when she sees she has finally run out. She checks the time. Almost midnight. The bookstore doesn't close until 12. She’s got nine minutes. If she runs, she might be able to make it. And if not, she’ll march the two miles to the nearest CVS. 

Rising from her desk, Darcy's joints all crack in unison. She stretches out her fingers and rotates to loosen the knots in her shoulders, ignoring the twinge in her lower back. She grabs her keys and wallet and turns for the door, wondering what scene she's going to find when she exits the building. The noise level has only increased since Maeve left. 

She twists the door handle and exits the dorm, her mind focused on getting those sticky tabs before the store closes. So focused on getting those sticky tabs she jolts, her skin crawling, when someone grabs her by the arm and pulls her away from the elevator. She's about to scream, but whoever is clinging to her places a hand over her mouth. Except it isn't a hand. It's a metal claw. 

Her eyes widen. 

The Winter Soldier. She doesn’t know how she knows, she just does. It’s not like Freddy Krueger is hanging out in her dorm.

But what the fuck is this guy doing here?

Darcy's cry for help dies against the assassin's communist hand. Her eyes frantically scan the hallway, but there is no one else around. They're probably all at parties. Or asleep. And none of them are going to know that the Winter Soldier killed her. 

Isn't he supposed to be better now? 

Clearly, Captain America is wrong about him.

"Don't make a sound."

The gravelly voice assaults her ear, making her cringe. She nods. A promise. Because of course she is the type of girl to comply with the bad guy. She blames it on a lack of sleep. 

But then he says something that surprises her. 

He says, "I'm here to rescue you." Slowly, his bionic hand retreats from her mouth and he spins her around to face him. 

This isn't the Winter Soldier she saw on her TV screen. That guy was hardened. Dangerous. Evil.

This guy is none of those things. He is soft, minus the stubble. With kind, blue eyes that look deeply into her own, imploring her to trust him. 

"Rescue me?" she breathes, her heart racing. "From what?"

Those blue eyes widen. "From what? Haven't you heard the chaos?"

The chaos. 

All the screams and loud bangs. 

Darcy's throat swells. "What's happening?" she squeaks, feeling wholly unprepared for any type of attack, alien or otherwise.

"It's okay," he says, and it's that moment, when he tightens his arm—the real one—around her waist, that she realises he's still clinging to her. Or maybe it’s her who is clinging to him. "I'm here to get you to safety. Follow me."

He releases her, but not for long. His hand finds hers and she holds tight as he guides her to the staircase. Which is difficult because she has started sweating and his equally warm hand keeps slipping from her own.

"Why aren't you down there fighting the bad guys?" she asks, trying to keep her footsteps light on the steps. "Not that I'm not grateful you came, because I am, it just seems like a weird mission, you know? One of the superheroes abandoning his teammates to grab a clueless girl from her dorm. Wouldn’t you be more useful down in the thick of it? _The thick of it_? I’ve never said that phrase in my entire life”—

"You talk when you're nervous," he says, glancing back at her, successfully cutting her off. 

"Um, yeah, I guess I do." This is news to her. She rarely gets nervous, and she talks a lot anyway. But she isn't immune to the reality of ambushes so bad the Avengers and their sidekicks get called in. 

"I was out there, grabbing people fleeing from some party, but a girl told me her roommate was probably so busy studying she wasn't aware of the evacuation order. And Steve…Captain America has a policy: no man… _woman_ … _person_ left behind.”

"There was an evacuation order?" Darcy balks, pausing on the staircase. They are halfway down. 

The Winter Soldier—was that even his name still?—stops with her, two steps below. He looks up at her, those kind, blue eyes brimming with a mixture of annoyance and worry for an idiotic perfect stranger. "There was."

"Oh my god," Darcy says. Her knees start buckling, and the guy maybe or maybe not known as the Winter Soldier is there to stop her from collapsing. 

"Hey, hey, you're alright. Let's keep moving." He puts his arm around her waist again and they continue down the stairs side by side, him holding her up and her holding him right back. He says something she can't catch, his free hand pressing his ear. Then he looks at her and says again, "I'm going to get you to safety."

"And then you're gonna get back to the fight?" 

"If there's still one going on, yes."

"Thank you," Darcy says. "For abandoning your job to come grab me."

"This is," he says, pulling her to the last fight, "my job. I wouldn't have left you."

She knows he doesn't mean anything by it other than it's his literal job to rescue stupid people like her from catastrophic events, but she feels her tired mouth curling in response. 

God, she hasn't gotten any in too long. This is not the time to be swept off her feet. Besides, isn't this guy a hundred years old? 

Darcy pushes all of these thoughts from her exhausted, wired mind when they reach the exit. The Man with the Mechanical Arm stops and looks fiercely into her eyes.

"Stay behind me," he orders. "I swear I will protect you."

All she can do is nod. The moment her head bounces up from her sternum, the door swings wide and Darcy is engulfed in madness. There are people flying in the air. The lawn is on fire. The yellow and red flames burn the midnight sky. Shrill voices shout orders she can't make out. People are screaming, some in agony and some in fear. Explosions go off in the distance. Gunfire booms nearby. 

But she is shielded. She stays behind her rescuer, keeping her forehead pressed to the hard vest protecting his back. He guides her through the sea of fire. His arms and body jerk every now and again, and she knows he has his own gun out. 

They traverse the battlefield for what feels like hours. When the noise dies down, when he pulls her out from behind him, she is completely drained. Her skin feels hot from all of the fire. She smells blood in the air. 

Looking around, she sees they've entered the science building. It's the farthest building from the centre of campus. The centre of the attack. 

"Everyone is through there," he says, pointing to the planetarium. He still has his gun out. He doesn't look as soft as when he found her. His face has grown old and angry and weary. "You're safe now."

"Thank you, uh . . . do people still call you the Winter Soldier?” she says.

“It’s just Bucky," he supplies. 

“Oh. Sorry. That makes sense that they don’t call you that anymore. Thank you, Bucky." She lamely holds out a hand. He stares it for a moment before taking it. They shake once. "I'm Darcy."

He drops his hand, already turning towards the doors. "Nice to meet you Darcy. Wish it had been under better circumstances.”

He doesn't give her an opportunity to respond. Something comes into his earpiece and he rushes out the door, leaving Darcy and her wobbly knees to watch him run towards the flames. 


End file.
